


Hostage Prince

by k_lynn



Category: Free!
Genre: Desert AU, M/M, Slow Build, WIP, based loosely on a kink meme prompt, ending AU, extremely self indulgent au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_lynn/pseuds/k_lynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto, prince of a wealthy seaside kingdom is given as a symbolic hostage to Prince Rin head of the desert tribe living around a sacred oasis to solidify the shaky alliance between them. They cope. Slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hostage Prince

**Author's Note:**

> A very self indulgent au of the Ending AU. Since I'm not very comfortable or well versed in the Arabian setting, I made my own desert people, yay. This is very much a work in progress and has only been edited by me. I'm sorry for any typos. I hope you enjoy~

A dry wind came in from the south, off of the driest, deepest part of the desert, settling a fine layer of grit over everything. It’s unseasonably hot and dry, harsh days and nights of biting wind that shrieked along the corridors of the castle. The kingdom sat on the edge of the vast desert, bordering it on three sides. On the fourth, the great oasis spread out, a spot of light in the bleak wasteland that surrounded it. Their stories told of it as a gift from the gods when the ill winds brought evils in from the desert. The priests say those winds had returned, that they were a sign of things to come. And their people would be called to fight again, protect from what the winds brought with them.

Across dry plains and a vast sea of black water another kingdom sat along the ocean, rich with merchants and peaceful, safe from ill winds and rumors of evils, protected by the people of the oasis. 

Once in a generation, they were called to send their eldest prince to the oasis as an offering for their sacrifice, a promise of continued peace. 

***

“I don’t want him.” 

Rin could deal with the grit and the biting winds and the rumors of horrors coming in from the sands, but he could not deal with his advisors. 

“All due respect, my prince, this is not just about you. This is a tradition. An ancient tradition. It is for your people.”

“My people,” Rin scoffed, turning from his window to face the men before him. Below, the clash of steel and the meaty thunk of colliding bodies echoed in the courtyard as the warriors trained. He’d much rather be there than here. “How does a barbaric ritual help my people?”

“It is the will and favor of the Gods. That is all. The kingdoms agree. The King and Queen of Iwatobi have agreed. The Prince himself has agreed. It is your duty, Prince Rin. The storms have barred the prince’s envoy from crossing the Inky Sea, but he will arrive within the month. We suggest you reconcile yourself to his coming.”

Rin slapped his hand down against the sill of the window. “And do what with him?” he snapped.

“What you will.”

“So you’ll bring him here as a slave?” Rin didn’t know this man, but he couldn’t imagine agreeing to something like that. What a fool. Did he not have any pride at all?

“He is of an ancient and noble line. He understands his role.”

“He’s a fool,” Rin replied, scoffing again. “Leave me.” When they didn’t immediately comply, he snarled. “Leave.”

He turned back to the window, not bothering to watch them move out of the room. 

The rustle of fabric made him aware of someone entering the room, and he was about to turn and snap, thinking it was one of his advisors, when the intruder spoke. 

“Are you alright, brother?” 

He turned to look at Gou, shaking his head at his sister as she entered the room, coming to stop at his side, resting her hand on the window ledge. He turned away from her worried look. 

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, frowning. “Did you know about this?” 

Gou colored and looked away. “Yes, I heard. I knew you’d be upset so I didn’t say anything. Is it so bad though? You might even like him. Think about what he feels too. He’s leaving everything he’s ever known to come here. The least you can do is treat him well.” 

Rin scoffed. “It’s not like I’m going to beat him nightly.” She gave him a half horrified look and he rolled his eyes. “I’m not, Gou. What do you think I’m some kind of monster?”

“It’s not funny, Rin,” Gou said, frowning at him. “Try, please. He has to be at least a little scared.” 

“Well, he could have had a little backbone and refused.” Rin still didn’t understand how someone could agree to this. He had to know what they were thinking, he’d be little more than a prisoner here, kept as a token of their ancient tradition. How he could do that was beyond Rin. He would have fought it. 

“He didn’t have any more choice than you do, Rin,” Gou shook her head at him, lightly pushing his shoulder. 

Rin huffed another incredulous sound and didn’t say anything. He wondered how long the storms would last, and how long it would be before he was face to face with this nameless prince. He hoped it was a long time. 

***

Winds lashed the waves against the shore line, the black water appearing almost to boil as it rolled against the dark rocks. The beacon house they lodged at seemed too close to the seas, like a wave too large could break against the stone walls themselves, sweep the whole thing away. Makoto shivered and turned away from the windows, unsettled by the thought. He rubbed his arms, though it wasn’t cold. Even with the storm, the air grew progressively warmer as they moved south and east toward their destination. One sea and some miles of dry plains separated him now from his fate. It was necessary. It was important. He repeated the priests’ words to himself, hoping at some point he would believe them. He would do anything for his people, though he wished it hadn’t been this. 

Turning back to the window, he hoped the harshness of the sea would distract him. He knew why they called it the Inky sea. The waters were black, even in the daylight. He was glad they had chosen not to cross it now, the storms on the waters terrified him. They seemed alive to Makoto now, like some dark creature waiting to open its maw and consume him. 

Movement to his left made him jump back into the wall, a surprised yelp caught in his throat. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling like his heart was going to beat through his rib cage. 

“Haru,” he said breathlessly, shaking his head. “You scared me.” He watched his dark haired friend move up beside him, his face as impassive as ever, though Makoto could see he thought he was pretty ridiculous at the moment. 

“The captain said the storm should pass by tomorrow. If it passes in the night we’ll be making for Samezuka in the morning.”

Makoto sighed, “That soon.” He’d hoped selfishly the storm would hold on a little longer. 

“Yes.” Haru looked sidelong at him, saying nothing else, though he could see his interest in his eyes. 

The brunet shook his head, his green eyes alight with fondness. “I’m alright. It won’t be so bad, right? I mean, Rin can’t be as bad as they say.”

“They say the desert is harsh, and it makes people the same,” Haru replied, though what he thought about that, he kept to himself.

“There’s still time for you to go home,” Makoto offered, a pang in his chest. “I’m not going to ask you to go with me.”

Haru frowned slightly, his look pointed enough that Makoto gave him a chagrined smile in return. “My place is with you. If you’re going, so am I.”

Makoto’s smile turned warm. “Thank you, Haru,” he replied. “I don’t know if I could do this without you.” 

Throughout his life, Haru had been his constant companion, even when they were children. He’d been his friend, the son of one of the guards. He was naturally intelligent, intuitive and graceful, so when he’d gotten older and shown a natural aptitude for fighting, he’d become his guard. Haru took to it like breathing, and he was the best in the kingdom, besting men twice his age and three times his size. 

Makoto really didn’t know what his life would have been without him, and he was glad he wouldn’t have to, as selfish as that was. 

Haru looked away from him at that, shaking his head. “You should sleep. It’s still a long trip.”

Makoto nodded, “I’ll try,” he replied, putting his hand on Haru’s shoulder for a brief moment before he turned to his things to ready himself for bed.

Haru left as silently as he had come, leaving Makoto to his thoughts once more. Sleep seemed like a far off thing to him right now, and he worried he would not get much of it on the road. It would be a hard journey, made even worse by the uncertainty that lay at the end of it. 

As he’d suspected, his sleep was fitful and filled with dark dreams of black waters and dry biting winds. Makoto rose long before the ship was set to leave, dressed in the dim light of early dawn, and went out to watch the water. The rising sun glittered on the black water like diamonds scattered on black cloth, the breeze off it moist with the after effects of the storm and it cooled his warm skin. He felt over dressed for this warmth, even though his coat was long and loose, made of thin light fabric, and the metal of the necklace and bracelets he wore stuck unpleasantly to his skin. But it was habit to dress like this, and he felt better, normal, wearing it now. 

This time he was prepared for Haru moving to his side and he smiled at him. Silently the dark haired man handed him a thick round of yellow bread stuffed with cheese. Makoto nodded his thanks and broke a piece off it. “Did you eat?” he asked. When Haru was silent, he handed him part of the bread, holding it out to him until he took it. 

“The ship will leave soon,” Haru said. 

Makoto looked toward the vessel, creaking on its moorings and sighed. Its crimson sails flapped in the wind, stark against the blue of the sky. “Seems like the winds are with us,” he said and Haru hummed a noncommittal sound.

They’d grown up in Iwatobi, a kingdom set along the sea. Knowing the sea, the winds, was in their blood. At the ship, men shouted and hustled about, loading the hold with the things Makoto’s envoy brought with them. Their home was a fertile place, so along with himself, there were a great many supplies, preserved produce, textiles, and a great many other things Makoto couldn’t catalogue. He wondered about that, but he didn’t ask. His country had always supplied Samezuka with their goods, so he assumed it was easier the travel with the traders than not. Though it made him feel more conspicuous. They all knew why he was traveling with them. 

Haru turned a second before he heard someone call to him, “My prince, the ship is nearly ready.”

Makoto turned to smile at the guard come to retrieve him. “I’m coming,” he replied, giving the man a wave and watching as he turned and ran back toward the dock. He sighed again, the smile slipping from his mouth. “Well, I guess it’s time.”

Haru didn’t say anything at all, though he didn’t have to. Makoto walked toward the ship and he followed, a calm, steady presence at his back. 

***

The sun had just dawned hot and bright when news reached Rin that the prince would be there before sundown. Rin reached down and helped Nitori pick himself up from the hard packed ground. The smaller male laughed and dusted himself off, patting the dirt from his hands. He’d been showing him how to topple a man, and he might be going a little harder on him than he needed to. The news had put him in a bad mood. Nitori didn’t seem to mind. 

“What do you think he’ll be like?” he asked, smiling at Rin like he hadn’t just taken him to the ground and followed him over to where a pitcher of water rested for them in the shade. Everyone was pretty fascinated by this prince and the faraway kingdom he came from.

Rin wasn’t impressed. “Spineless, probably. They don’t even fight. I’m sure he’s never had to lift a hand for himself in his life.” 

Nitori’s brows rose, “Well maybe you could teach him then, Rin,” he said. “You’re a good teacher.”

“I doubt he’d want to learn,” Rin replied disgustedly. “And I wouldn’t waste my time on him anyway. There’re some things you just can’t teach, Nitori.” 

Nitori shook his head, “Not you, Rin. I think you could teach anyone.”

Rin scoffed, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Don’t be stupid.”

Nitori laughed, smiling gamely at him, “Sorry, Rin.” He was used to Rin’s moods, so he didn’t let it get to him. 

They continued their practice, which was really Rin throwing Nitori around while he tried to keep up. For a while he forgot about the impending arrival of the prince and let go of his mood a little. That relative peace was shattered when Seijurou called out to him. The tall redhead stopped beside the ring, motioning over his shoulder.

“We got word. He’s here. The caravan is coming in from the main gate.”

Rin scowled, cursing under his breath. He knew he was expected to meet him, and there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t worth the fight he would get if he didn’t show. He hated feeling powerless like that. 

***

They were met at the gate by forbidding looking men. Makoto should have expected it, these were a warrior people, but they still made him uneasy. The reins of his horse were unceremoniously taken from him and he jerked back in surprise, causing one of them to bark something at him in a language he didn’t know. He understood the sentiment, though and he didn’t resist being led away from the rest of his party. Haru brought his horse up behind him, and though the men walking ahead of them eyed him warily, they otherwise ignored him. 

News of his arrival must have spread, because people came out to line the way. They were silent, watching him with something between distrust and awe. Makoto didn’t know what to do, so he looked ahead, trying to push down the nerves that twisted his stomach. He wondered what he must look to them, since he was sure they all knew why he was here. 

In a fit of fatalistic humor he wondered if they knew what would become of him. He wished someone would tell him. They seemed to be heading toward the oasis. He could see the blue waters of it glittering in the sun, and the greenery that sprung up around it. It was a strange sight considering if he turned around he would see only sand and sun baked dirt. Their path curved toward a low, vast building. He could only assume this was the palace. It had its own sort of beauty, open and sweeping as it was, the stone it was made from natural tones of red and earthy gold. The columns were painted with geometric designs but otherwise unadorned and the only decoration he could see were draped fabrics that mirrored the same colors that were there presumably to protect the inhabitants from the harsher winds off the desert. 

It curved lightly around a courtyard, and that was where they stopped. Makoto saw a pretty woman, perhaps a few years younger than him step out from the shade of the building and face them. Her red hair was bound up and fluttered out in a tail behind her, her clothes, while well made and flattering were obviously made to allow movement, her arms bare and her skirt short. It was a huge departure from when he was used to where women draped themselves in finery. She smiled at him when she noticed he’d spotted her. 

Makoto started to smile back at her. His horse suddenly bucked beneath him, spooked by something, and when it reared the reins were pulled from the hold of the man who had been leading him. With the reins out of his control, all Makoto could do was hold on to avoid being thrown, his fingers tangling in the horse’s mane. Just when he thought he might fall, a hand shot out to grab the reins, and the world fell back into place. 

He stared at the man hold his horse, blinking. He had red hair like the woman, and it was messy, falling into his eyes, and he wore nothing but a pair of utilitarian looking pants. His gaze was sharp, almost angry, and he scoffed. 

“What would it say about the gods if you fell and broke your neck on the first day?” he said in the common tongue. His tone was harsh, his words accented, and his glare never softened.

It occurred to Makoto that this was Prince Rin, at least he thought it was him. Nothing about him said prince besides his commanding presence and the way their guards deferred to him. If he had not spoken, Makoto might have missed him altogether. 

“Yes,” the brunet replied, running a hand back through his hair. “I don’t really want to find out.” He hopped off his horse, glad to be standing on his own to feet again. “You’re Rin, yes? I’m Makoto. I’m glad you speak the common tongue. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to speak to you at all.” 

Rin looked at him for a second, his expression not relaxing, and then he sneered, walking away. Makoto’s brows rose and he watched him until he disappeared, at a loss. Well, that certainly could have gone better. 

“I’m sorry about my brother.” The red haired woman from the porch approached him and smiled again. “He’s really not that bad all the time.”

Makoto turned to smile at her, “Princess Gou?” he ventured, trying to be polite and not show how out of sorts he was. 

She nodded, “Though I go by Kou,” she said, not unkindly. 

“Kou, then,” Makoto said, warmed by her kindness. “I’m Makoto.” He turned to Haru who had moved up beside him. “This is Haru.”

“I’ll show you where you’re going to stay,” Kou said, motioning for them to follow. She didn’t have as thick of an accent to her speech as her brother did, and she chattered amicably at Makoto as they walked. He appreciated it, because if he was responding to her, he didn’t have to think about the glare Rin had directed at him. He’d only just arrived, did the man hate him so much?

Beside him, Haru watched him out of the corner of his eye, though Makoto knew he wouldn’t say anything until Kou left them. He could tell he was worried, and he wanted to reassure him, but he didn’t want to be rude and interrupt Kou. He did learn some things from her. His rooms were relatively close to Rin’s, he would be allowed to move about freely, though she cautioned him against getting lost, since not many people knew the common language used between the two nations, and if he ever wanted to find Rin, he should look on the training grounds at the back of the castle facing the oasis. 

Makoto didn’t envision needing to seek out Rin’s company, but that was an unkind thought, and the least he could do was try to get to know the man. They would be around each other for the foreseeable future, at least they could be civil. 

“Did I do something to offend Prince Rin,” he asked suddenly, causing Kou to pause in her explanation. 

She smiled slightly. “No. He’s just a little upset about all this. Don’t take it personally.”

Somehow, Makoto thought there was more to it than that, because that didn’t really explain why he’d looked at him with such distain, but he didn’t press her on it. 

She led him into an open relatively unadorned room, furnished simply with a draped bed and a low table surrounded by pillows for seating, and a large double door wardrobe for his clothing. “This is your room,” she told him. “There’s a smaller room through there for Haru.” 

Makoto moved over to the window and realized they were at the back of the palace. It looked out over the oasis. He could hear people talking, an occasional shout or laugh, and he realized he was looking down at the training grounds she had mentioned. He spotted Rin by his hair, listening as a compact gray haired man spoke animatedly to him. Makoto smiled a little at the incredulous look the redhead wore, so different from the glare he’d seen.

“Who is that he’s talking to?” Makoto asked, looking back at Kou.

Kou moved up beside him, following his gaze. “Oh, that’s Nitori. He’s Rin’s…” she paused for a second, shaking her head, “student I think is the word you’d use. The older fighters take on a novice to teach.”

“Even Rin?” Makoto asked, fascinated despite himself. 

“Especially Rin,” Kou replied, smiling a little. “He’s a really accomplished fighter, and he works hard at it.”

She was obviously proud of her brother, and Makoto smiled warmly. “I’ve heard those things, though I wouldn’t know much about fighting. That’s Haru’s area.”

Kou chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll get a lot of opportunity to watch them.” She turned her gaze to Haru, “And if you’d like to practice, I’m sure they’d let you.”

Haru looked at her for a second and inclined his head, though Makoto could tell he was more interested in it than he wanted to appear. Haru’s interest really did lay with fighting and little else. 

“Do you fight too, Kou?” Makoto asked, not wanting to assume.

“I’m trained,” Kou replied, “But I really don’t have the passion for it that Rin does.”

Makoto turned his gaze back to watching the men below them. He found his gaze shifting back to Rin more often than not. He could see what she was talking about. His dedication was easy to read in his expression, in his movements, and Makoto felt like he was feeling an entirely different person from the harsh one who’d snapped and glared at him. Perhaps he could get the man to ease up around him a little bit, maybe even start to like him, if he tried. He could admit he found him interesting, the more he learned from Kou. 

“You must be tired,” Kou said gently. “I’ll let you get settled in.” 

“Yes, thank you,” Makoto turned a smile on her as she moved away. “I appreciate your kindness, Kou.”

Kou shook her head, her red length of hair swinging behind her. “It’s nothing, Makoto. I know this isn’t any easier for you than it is my brother. I’ll help any way I can.”

She took her leave, and Makoto was left alone with Haru. He blew out a sigh, leaning on the ledge of the window, his gaze tracking Rin as he moved below. “Well.” 

Haru moved up to lean beside him, watching him silently. He waited for him to speak, and Makoto didn’t disappoint. 

“I don’t know,” he said after a second. “But I’m fine, Haru. It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

Haru didn’t look like he completely bought that. Makoto didn’t think he could muster the will to keep trying to convince him. He was tired, the journey had been long and arduous. His back and legs ached from the long time spent riding. Tomorrow he might be able to do something more.


End file.
